Angel of Music
by Ebony Rayne
Summary: Formerly Untitled Puck is in juvvie and Sam is still reluctant to join the Gleeks. New Directions needs a new member and they need one now. Only one person — the new, new kid — is willing to help, and he has got some weird requirements.
1. Angel of Music

**A/N:** I was just watching _The Nanny_ and that episode (for those of you who know the show) where a soap star refused to do Maxwell's play unless Fran went out with him. And thus, this story was born. I don't want a multi-chaptered story, so this is just gonna be a one-shot. The chance of additional chapters being added is nonexistent.

Also, I only recently began catching up on Glee episodes. Originally, I had seen the first episode and the most recent episodes, so my friend downloaded all the episodes and gave me copies of most of them, but some didn't transfer over for reasons unknown. So anyway, there are some gaps in my Glee-education. Please don't hold it against me.

Anyway, let's move on.

**Story Title:** I was sick of not having a title, so I wracked my brain over and over and came up with _Angel of Music_, since Harry called Kurt an angel and because I was listening to the _Phantom of the Opera_ soundtrack. When I changed the title, I did a tiny bit of tweaking — barely worth mentioning — to match some of the events in _Fly on the Wall_, which is the sister-story to this one. Go read it.

**Summary: **Puck is in juvvie and Sam is still reluctant to join the Gleeks. New Directions _needs _a new member and they need one _now_. Only one person — the _new_, new kid — is willing to help, and he has got some weird requirements.

**Glee: **This takes place Season 2, Episode 4 (if my episodes are numbered right).

**Harry Potter: **Takes place after the _Order of the Phoenix_. Except Voldemort was killed at the Ministry. And "Horcruxes" is just a funny word. Harry is 17 and a Junior.

**Warnings: **There's not any bashing, but you'll be able to tell from my writing that Rachel annoys me. Sorry if you like her — I know she has her moments — but I just want to beat her repeatedly until all the diva bleeds out.

**Pairings: **Harry/Kurt, Rachel/Finn, Santana/Puck (kinda, if you can actually call them a couple), Tina/Mike

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Glee. If I did, Blaine would've gotten his head out of his ass a lot sooner, and Harry would've won the war through gay sex with all the male members of the inner circle. He then would've made millions selling the videos on the internet. I would've been the first buyer. Or at least bitch-fought the rest of you for it.

"_One way or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna get'cha get'cha get'cha get'cha…_" is from Blondie's immortal _One Way or Another_. (not mine.)

_Would You Cry For Me? _is by Smash — as stated later — and is also not mine. Please note that the lyrics are by ear and thus bound to be wrong in places.

**Random Fact:** The day Lady Gaga won the 2011 MVA award for Best Female Music Video, she was dressed as a man, called herself Joe, and pretended she wasn't Lady Gaga.

Harry hated everything.

He hated America — so loud and rude; he hated Lima, Ohio — ignorant and hateful; he hated McKinley High — filled with sluts and meat heads; and he had only been there for a week and a half.

_Damn Remus, making me stay here,_ Harry thought angrily. _'Expand your horizons', he says. 'You need to try new things,' he says. High school isn't new and it's the worst place in the world to 'expand horizons.'_

After the war, after Remus had legally gotten custody of Harry, the two decided to travel the world. They globe trotted for almost two years before they decided to settle down in one place, so they checked the properties left to them by the Potter and Black estates. To escape the press, they picked a nice two-story in the smallest muggle town on the list. Well, second smallest. They picked Lima because it had a mall and sun and Harry didn't think he'd be able to live in a town called "Forks" without laughing. It was hard enough to keep from giggling every time he passed that café named Lima Bean. _Someone_ was high when they came up with that name.

Harry watched a gorilla in a letterman's jacket throw a slushie at the annoying Jewish girl from his English class and wished once again that Remus would let them move to New York.

Harry swapped out some books in his locker when he heard a lilting voice say, "Come on, Rachel. Let's go wash your hair out."

Harry turned and saw the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life. The angel talking to the annoying girl had porcelain skin covered in designer clothes and soft brown hair that didn't have a strand out of place. Perfect cheek bones, button nose, lithe form…. There was no way this person was human. The angel took Rachel's arm and began to lead her to the girl's bathroom. Harry almost threw a cleaning charm at the Berry girl so the angel wouldn't leave his sight, but he stopped himself in time.

"Thanks, Kurt," Rachel said as she entered the washroom.

_Kurt,_ Harry thought. He rolled the name around in his head. _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt…. _He repeated it over and over until it lost all meaning. His angel's name was "Kurt"? So plebeian, and yet so incredibly perfect. What a beautiful contrast.

The bell rang and everyone went to class, but Harry didn't move from his locker, because at that moment, Kurt and Rachel came out of the bathroom. Rachel grabbed Kurt's arm and began to drag him down the hall. "Come on," she trilled, her voice shrill and chipper as they walked away from him. "We have to get to Glee!"

_Glee?_ Harry thought. _That outcast choir?_ A plan formed in his head and a sly grin spread across his face. _One way or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna get'cha get'cha get'cha get'cha…_

Harry was able to make his move almost a month later — a month filled with hidden glances and subtle sneaking and it wasn't stalking (it wasn't!) because Harry didn't follow Kurt home or to the bathroom or do anything creepy like steal his gum and/or build a shrine — when it went around school that one of the Glee members — a troublemaker and apparent baby-daddy/man-slut/badass named Puckerman — was sent to juvvie and the club was now in desperate need of a new member to meet the 12-student minimum.

Harry walked into the choir room after school just as the Glee club was leaving. Harry saw that there was no one new in the group and figured they'd given up on having anyone audition. _I'm the only one that showed up?_ Harry thought. _Perfect._

"Sorry I'm late," Harry said to the teacher. He wasn't quite sure what his name was — he didn't take a language class thanks to all his travelling making him fluent in French, Spanish, and Italian — but he'd heard people call him Mr. S, so he'd go with that. "I had to call my uncle to tell him I'd be late and he wouldn't let me hang up until I'd told him everything about my day." Harry laughed slightly and smiled at the faces looking at him. No one moved and Harry cocked his head. "Am I too late to audition?"

Everyone jumped into action. "No! No, of course not!" Mr. S assured him.

"What piece will you be performing?" Rachel asked at the same time.

"Do you play any instruments?" asked the ex-quarterback.

"Are you seeing anyone?" came from the bitchy cheerleader as a sassy-looking black girl exclaimed at that she loved his leather boots.

Each voice layered over the other as everyone went to their instruments or sat down, eagerly waiting for their newest member to sing. Mr. S quieted everyone down and Harry took the opportunity to speak. "Well," he said, "I play the violin, harp, and sitar," he answered the ex-quarterback whose name he couldn't remember. "Thank you, they're new and cost a lot more than they should," he told the sassy black girl — Mercedes, if he'd heard right, "and no," he told the bitchy cheerleader — Santana, according to the writing on the bathroom walls, "I'm not seeing anyone right now, but I _have_ had my eye on this one person for a while now, so hopefully I won't be single long."

"Well then," Mr. S said cheerfully as he clapped and rubbed his hands together, "why don't you introduce yourself, tell us a bit about you, and tell us what you're going to perform?"

"Well, my name is Harry, I'm 17, I'm from Surrey — _not _London — and I live with my godfather Remus," Harry said as he walked to the front of the room. "As for what I'm going to sing," he turned to the band, "do you know _Would You Cry For Me?_, by Smash?" They shared a look before nodding to him. "Well then, that's what I'll be performing."

The band began to play and Harry took a breath before opening his mouth and singing;

"_Would you cry for me?_

_Would you lie for me?_

_I wanna be the one to hold you in my arms all through the night_

_Every night_

_With every touch I feel the burning of desire_

_I'm lost in you_

_Inside of you_

_For all the love that you bring_

_The way you colour everything_

_Stop the voices whispering_

_Would you cry for me?_

_Would you lie for me?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you fall apart?_

_Would you tear me from your heart?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you cry for me?_

_Ooh, oo-oo-ooh_

_Would you lie for me?_

_Ooooh, oo-ooh_

_In the darkness, I'll protect you from the shadows of the night_

_Be the light_

_Through the storm, I will shelter you from all the falling rain_

_Be the flame_

_For all the happiness you bring_

_The way you colour everything_

_Makes my heart wanna sing_

_Would you cry for me?_

_Would you lie for me?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you fall apart?_

_Would you tear me from your heart?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_(Would you cry for me?)_

_Would you cry for me?_

_(Would you lie for me?)_

_Would you lie for me?_

_(Would you cry for me?)_

_Would you cry for me?_

_(Would you lie for me?)_

_Would you lie for me?_

_For all the love that you bring_

_The way you colour everything_

_Makes my heart wanna sing_

_Would you cry for me?_

_Would you lie for me?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you fall apart?_

_Would you tear me from your heart?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you cry for me?_

_Would you lie for me?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you fall apart?_

_Would you tear me from your heart?_

_Would you sacrifice your love for me?_

_Would you cry for me?"_

Harry opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed and looked at the silent club. _Oh, Merlin, was I _that_ bad? _he wondered. _Maybe my plan won't work after all…._ That thought lasted all of a minute before his audience snapped out of whatever had shocked them and began to cheer. Harry watched them clap and whistle and hesitantly ventured to ask, "_So_… I was… ok?"

The cheering stopped abruptly. "Ok? _OK?_" Rachel shrieked from where she was standing. "You were phenomenal! Better than Finn! We'll have to get together to arrange our duet for Sectionals and — "

Mr. S thankfully interrupted her. "What she means to say is, 'Welcome to Glee!'" The cheering began again, quieter and more polite than anything.

"Awesome!" Harry said enthusiastically. _Phase one complete. Phase two is a go. _"There's just a few things." The students groaned and Harry heard someone mutter, "_Greeeeat_; _another _diva." Harry was quick to assure them, "They're small things, really; I swear." The Gleeks reluctantly quieted. "First; I hate the spotlight. Keep it the hell away from me. Don't give me a solo, don't give me a duet, don't put me in the front in anyway. As far as my position in Glee, I'm a stand-in to reach your minimum. All I want to do is stand in the back and sway."

"No!" Rachel protested. "You can't do that! If we combine our talents and sing a duet after my solo, there's no way we can lose! You're just going to have to get over this aversion you have to — "

"_Second_," Harry interrupted loudly after he'd decided she wasn't going to shut up any time soon. He held up two fingers and pointed them both at the conceited diva. "I do not like her and attempts to make me work with her, talk to her, or acknowledge her in any way will be met with violence."

"Preach it!" Santana called, her obvious distaste of Rachel Berry making him dislike her slightly less. The resident goth Tina, Quinn — Puck's baby-mama and yet still the president of the Celibacy Club, if rumour was to be believed — and Mercedes clapped and nodded in agreement.

Mr. S reluctantly said, "Fine, but this is a small club. You'll have to talk to her at some point."

"Yeah, we'll see," Harry shot back. "The last thing, and this is a deal breaker, _completely _non-negotiable, is — "

_There's a place downtown_

_Where the freaks all come around_

_It's a hole in the wall_

_It's a dirt free-for-all_

"What's up, Remus?" Harry placed his hand over the phone's mouthpiece and turned to the Glee members. "Sorry; just a sec," he whispered before concentrating on what his guardian was saying.

"_So, tell me again how to work an electric stove?" _Remus asked. _"Because I'm looking at it and I don't_ — _"_

"_What?_" Harry yelped. "Remus, we've been over this. You are not allowed in the kitchen. You know what happened last time."

"_That was _not_ my fault,"_ Remus protested. _"I still don't see how cooking something at twice the heat won't finish it in half the time."_

"I know, just like why you can't see why people don't wash their clothes in the dishwasher and get the laundry and flatware done at once," Harry pointed out, his voice annoyed as he remembered _that_ particular episode.

"_Hey! That worked out fine! The clothes still got clean,"_ Remus pointed out. _"The _dishes _just stayed dirty. And then got food on the clothes,"_ he added reluctantly. _"Maybe I _shouldn't _have tried to clean them both at once…"_

"Ya _think_?" Harry asked mockingly. "You know what? Just step away from the stove. In fact, get out of the kitchen completely. I'll be home soon to make dinner. You go read. Go."

"_But_ — _"_

"_Go_, Remus," Harry repeated as he grabbed his jacket and bag from the chair he'd placed them in. "Get _out_ of my kitchen, because so help me, if you burn down another one, you can get fat off take out for the rest of your life, do you understand me?" Harry hung up the phone and opened the door. He was almost out when Mr. S asked, "What's last?"

"Huh?" Harry asked. As if he'd forgotten. As if he wasn't inwardly cheering at the convenient escape Remus's call gave him.

"The last, deal-breaking, non-negotiable thing you wanted?" Mr. S reminded him. "What is it?"

"Oh yeah," Harry said. He set his bag on the ground and pulled on his jacket. "This is gonna sound a little… weird, but," he picked his bag back up, fully aware of how everyone was staring at him, silently encouraging him to hurry the hell up and spill it, "I want a date," he stepped out of the room, "with Kurt." And closed the door.

_Wonder how they'll take _that.

Back in the choir room, no one spoke.

"A date with Kurt?" Mercedes asked no one in particular. This apparently snapped everyone out of their shock.

"You lucky bastard," Tina teased Kurt, who looked as if he was going to faint.

"Looks like you get to take one for the team," Artie joked.

"Take it _hard_," Santana added.

"And pictures. Take pictures," Brittany said.

"Shut up, everyone!" Mercedes yelled. "He's in shock." She linked her arm with Kurt's and waved her free hand in front of his face. "You ok, baby?"

Kurt grabbed her hand and moved it away from his face. "Ok, let me just… clarify," he said. Everyone nodded and waited for him to speak again. "The hottest guy in school — the rich, well-dressed one with the jewel-green eyes and yummy accent — " the Glee members nodded again, "will only join Glee club if I go on a date with him?"

"Exactly," Rachel answered. "Which, quite frankly, I find completely unprofessional and — "

Kurt interrupted her. "Done."

Burt glared at the teenager standing in his living room. He inwardly smirked when the boy shuffled his feet, looking everywhere but at him.

When Burt was first told that a new student agreed to join that Glee Club if Kurt would go out with him, he immediately decided that some little bastard was playing around with his son. He wouldn't put it past the kids at that school to start some twisted game of "trick the homo into liking you" and damn it all if he was gonna let this one get away with it. He didn't let his family hurt his son, he didn't let Finn hurt his son, he didn't let the anonymous cowards on the phone hurt his son, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let this Harry Potter kid hurt his son.

"I'm ready!" Kurt called as he entered the living room, dressed head to toe in designer clothes Burt couldn't put a label to if you paid him. "All right, let's go," he said, but Burt wasn't listening; he was watching Harry. The boy was staring at a completely oblivious Kurt like he was the sun.

"Great," Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as Kurt walked up to Burt.

"Bye, dad." He kissed him on the cheek and Burt gave him a quick hug. Harry helped Kurt into a jacket and held the front door open for him — his face still worshipful and his eyes showing shock that such a person could be standing next to him — and Burt decided that maybe, Harry Potter wasn't a cruel bastard. He couldn't be with that look on his face. Burt recognized that look. He'd worn it for Kurt's mother and he wore it for Finn's mother, and if Harry Potter loved his son half as much as Burt loved Elizabeth or Carole, he would be happy for them.

"Have fun," he called to them as the door closed. Kurt gave him one last smile, and he smiled back. _But not too much fun, _he silently threatened Harry, _because I will kill you._

"So," Kurt began, his voice slightly awkward, "where are we going?"

"I pumped the Glee Club for information," Harry admitted, blushing slightly in embarrassment. _Thank Merlin it's dark in this car._ "Based on what they told me — and excluding obvious lies — I was thinking either _Les Miserables_ at the local theatre, ice-skating at the rink, or we can go to the mall and see who can make a salesperson cry first. Whichever you pick, Breadstix is after."

"Well," Kurt thought about it, "I already saw _Les Miserables_ this week and it was awful, and I don't feel like making a salesclerk cry (which I'd totally do first, by the way), but I also can't ice-skate."

"Neither can I," Harry told him. "That's why we would be taking the beginner's class. Which starts in thirty minutes. So choose fast."

"Are the odds of you falling very good?" Kurt teased.

"Damn good."

"Then I pick ice-skating," Kurt announced imperiously. Harry smiled.

"I hate you." Kurt glared at him from his position sitting on the ice. Harry tried not to laugh and helped the other boy up. "I thought you said you would fall?"

The beginners' class had just finished the basics and the instructor decided to allow everyone to glide around the rink as they got used to their skates while he took a phone call. As it turned out, Harry was a natural when it came to skating. As it also turned out, Kurt was not.

Harry linked their arms and helped his date balance as they slowly made their way along the railing. "I thought I would," Harry insisted. "I'm usually a klutz when it comes to doing anything that even slightly requires a proper centre of balance." Kurt continued to glare at him, stopping only to shakily grab the rail to prevent him from toppling them both over.

"I'm still mad at you," Kurt insisted, pouting for all it's worth.

Harry smirked. "Well, if you want me to fall so badly…" Kurt looked at him oddly, his eyes widening when he caught on. Harry grabbed onto his arm and intentionally tripped, making them both fall on their asses.

Kurt glared at him again. "Bastard."

"How are these things so popular?" Harry asked, examining the breadstick in his hand. "They're kinda crappy."

"Ok, you're insane," Kurt said. "These are fantastic."

"They're mass-produced, flash-frozen, flown half-way across the country, and reheated for 10 minutes," Harry pointed out. He broke the stick in half. "And stale. _So _stale."

"Oh, I suppose you can do better?" Kurt challenged.

"Of course. I'll prove it to you next weekend." Harry suddenly realized what he'd just said and looked down, blushing insanely.

"Did you just ask me out on another date?" Kurt teased, blushing just as badly nonetheless.

"I actually think I just ordered it. I'm sorry." Harry quietly took a sip of his drink and looked everywhere but at his date as the dreaded awkward silence descended. A few tables away, a mother was wiping pasta sauce off her son's face as the father looked on fondly.

"So…" Kurt fiddled with his fork, avoiding looking at his date as well. Over Kurt's shoulder at the booth next to theirs, there was a redhead whose hair colour was obviously fake. He thanked the Weasleys for being able to spot that. "Why me?" Harry's eyes snapped to lock with Kurt's, his expression baffled. "I mean, we're the only gay kids at the school — that are out, anyway — so that's probably why me _specifically_, but I still don't know why you wanted to go out at all." Kurt continued to gaze around the restaurant. There were some old ladies daring each other to put hot sauce in their drinks and laughing on the other side of the restaurant.

"What kind of question is that?" Kurt turned to look at Harry, who had a vaguely angry look on his face. "'Why you?' Are you crazy? You're…" Harry let out a heavy sigh. "Wow. You're gorgeous, and you're sweet, and talented. You speak your mind and you refuse to change for anyone, even when you're terrified. _Especially_ when you're terrified. And you may be a total diva, but I think it's adorable. _You're_ adorable." Harry's face had lit up when he began talking, but he turned red when he finally looked at Kurt's face and saw his stunned expression.

A booth in the corner had three guys who were apparently in the middle of a breadstick-eating contest. A blond was winning. And choking. Ok, he's fine now.

While Harry was watching the blond shove three breadsticks in his mouth at a time, Kurt seemed to get a much-needed ego boost and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "Why, Mr. Potter, I never knew you felt that way." Harry half-heartedly glared at him before turning away in embarrassment again. "And how long have you felt that way?"

"For about a month now," Harry muttered.

Kurt was confused. "Then why wait so long to ask me out?"

Harry shifted in his seat and bit his lip, staring intently at his broken breadstick and refusing to answer, so Kurt poked him.

"Harry," he sang.

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

"_Haaaaaarry…."_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

"Harry…"

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

"_Harry Potter_…"

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

_poke_

"_Pleeeeeeeeease?_"

_pokepokepokepokepoke_

"_Fine!_" Harry snapped. "But you can't laugh." Kurt nodded and smiled encouragingly. "You're so perfect, and incredible, and completely out of my league, and it made me nervous that you would laugh and say no."

"You are completely ridiculous."

"Shut up."

"I can't wait to see how Kurt's date went," Mercedes gushed to the rest of the Glee kids as they walked to the choir room. "He wouldn't return any of my calls."

"Ooh," Santana teased. "Good sign."

"He got home at a reasonable hour and stayed home the rest of the weekend," Finn interjected. "Burt made him."

"Well, I think we can all agree that, if the date went badly, we all get licence to beat the crap out of Harry Potter," Tina declared.

"I think we can also agree that, as his almost-brother, I get first shot," Finn said.

"Hello? _I'm_ his best friend," Mercedes argued.

"I don't think you two have to worry about who hits him first," Rachel said through a smile as the group approached her position outside the choir room door. She peeked through the window and giggled. "I think the date went _very_ well."

The rest of the Gleeks crowded around the door and saw what was inside. The girls began giggling and Artie let out a loud whoop. The others shushed him and Santana smacked his arm, but the couple in the room had already heard it.

"You're all perverts," Kurt candidly stated as he opened the door.

"And you two are exhibitionists," Mercedes teased.

"We were just kissing, and you are all perverts," Kurt repeated stubbornly before returning to his seat next to Harry. He swung his legs over the other boy's and Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"As long as they're perving instead of threatening me not to hurt their precious diva, I don't care," Harry joked, smiling at his boyfriend.

"'Precious diva'?" Kurt repeated incredulously. "I'll show you diva. Hey, guess why Harry didn't ask me out sooner?"

"Kurt…" Harry shook his head warningly.

"He thought that I would — "

"Shut up!"

**A/N:** The ending is lame, I know, but I couldn't think of anything.

Anyway, this is just a dumb little one-shot I felt like writing. It will continue to be a one-shot with absolutely no hope of ever becoming something more. Ever.

_Ever_.

Hope y'all liked it. Please review. Reviews are smiles.


	2. Important Notice

**WE HAVE REACHED REVIEW 100!**

Reviewer 100, OhSusieQ, has asked for "Harry vs Karofsky or any kind of family interaction,be it kurt meets remus or harry actually talks to burt".

I will get right on that. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

**Edit 4/19: **I'm almost done. I swear. Just a quick question; do you get alerts when I edit the chapter, or do I need to post as chapter 3?

**Edit 4/20: **By the lack of responses, I have to post as a new chapter. WHICH I'M RIGHT ABOUT TO DO! GO! GO READ IT!


	3. Harry vs Karofsky

**A/N: **And so we have the long-awaited sequel! As requested by reviewer 100, OhSusieQ, I will now be writing Harry vs. Karofsky. Also, fair warning, because it's Harry vs. Karofsky, there won't be as much Harry/Kurt interaction as you probably want. Sorry. I fit in all I could.

Enjoy.

—

Harry considered himself non-violent. Despite the ass-kicking he'd given Malfoy their fifth year and the Death Eaters/Dark Lord he'd killed and the threat he'd made about working with that obnoxious Berry chick, Harry did not appreciate violence as a form of retribution or persuasion.

Harry always felt there are much better ways to accomplish such things. When he wanted Remus to stop attempting to use the muggle appliances, Harry had bribed him with an extensive DVD collection and a batch of his famous blueberry fudge. When he wanted the Minister to stop accepting bribes and pathetic Imperious defences from known Death Eaters, Harry had threatened him with an exclusive interview about how the Ministry, in desperation to believe Voldemort was gone, had falsified reports about missing witches and wizards to exclude all Death Eater activity.

When Harry wanted revenge on the Dursleys (and this was something he was particularly proud of), he'd bought Smeltings and expelled Dudley. Then he bought Grunnings and fired Vernon. Then, when their one source of income was stopped, he bribed their bank to call in their mortgage and got them thrown out of the house. Harry then made sure Vernon was never able to get another job, instead making Petunia the breadwinner. As a hotel maid. At the same hotel they were forced to live in. That Harry owned.

But we're getting a bit off topic. The point was, Harry did not appreciate violence. David Karofsky, however, was quickly becoming the exception.

— — —

"That's the fourth time he's shoved you this week," Harry complained as he helped Kurt dust himself off. He'd unfortunately arrived too late to do anything to help and could only glare at the lockers around him, as if blaming them for not being softer.

"I'm fine," Kurt insisted, primly straightening his clothes. "He's not as strong as he looks."

That, Harry knew, was a dirty lie, but what could he do? Muggles—while generally oblivious—_would_ notice cushioning charms on the lockers, so that option was out, and there was no way he was going to _bribe_ the Neanderthal to stop harassing his boyfriend. He had nothing to blackmail him with, and he'd already looked into the Karofskys' finances; as easy as it would be to completely destroy them, Paul Karofsky was actually a good guy and Harry would end up feeling guilty. He was running out of options. And patience. And good will.

Things were _not _going to be pretty.

— — —

"I don't know what to _do_, Remy!" Harry almost shouted, slamming his cup down in front of him. Remus had known the moment the teenager had entered the house that he needed someone to talk to and had immediately set the kettle on the stove, but this—a skinny, American Dudley Dursley with an inexplicable grudge against Kurt Hummel (who Remus had grown quite attached to in the three weeks Harry had been dating him)—he was not expecting. "Karofsky's not going to stop and I have _no _idea how to make him," Harry continued hopelessly, staring into what dredges of tea hadn't spilled onto the table.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Remus suggested, pouring Harry a new cup of tea.

"Bullies can't be reasoned with," Harry pointed out angrily. "You should know. You were friends with some."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Harry simply stared at him, his expression clearly saying _bitch, please_. Remus sighed. "So, you can't use magic, you won't bribe him, and you'd feel too guilty about ruining his life because you'd have to ruin his father's life and his father isn't an asshole," the werewolf summed up. "That only leaves blackmail."

"I don't _have_ any blackmail, Moony," Harry pointed out.

"Then find some." Remus's face made it obvious that Harry should've already thought of that as he sipped his tea.

"You're a horrible parental figure."

"Meh."

— — —

Due to the fact that America had much stricter laws about using magic on muggles, Harry was unable to cast any spy spells. The fact that Voldemort had stuck to Britain so the US government couldn't care less that Harry had killed him also made it so Harry couldn't abuse his fame and get them to look the other way _just this once_.

The _one time _his fame would've come in handy….

Damn Yanks….

So, Harry was forced to find his blackmail the muggle way; through observation and eavesdropping.

Muggle spying sucked. It was not what Harry was expecting. All those movies Remus had become addicted to were completely misleading. There was no great conspiracy within the first 20 minutes and football guys apparently did _not_ share things with each other. _Remember the Titans_ had totally failed him. And the name _Titans_ had made it seem so promising.

Stupid prophecy making him read into every little coincidence….

Things were going nowhere. If Karofsky had anything blackmail-worthy, he was smart enough to keep them to himself. Harry was beginning to lose hope. Kurt was being tormented, the teachers weren't doing anything, and the one intimidating member of Glee club was on probation and everyone knew it. Things had calmed down slightly when Harry—who could be quite intimidating himself—started walking Kurt to all his classes, but Harry wasn't always there. Sometimes Kurt had to go to the bathroom or talk to Mr. Schue or double-back for something, and sometimes he would end up with some new bruises on his back and another bump on his head.

Sometimes, Harry just wanted to break something. Preferably Karofsky's arms. Harry may not _like_ violence, but he would use it if it helped Kurt. He was running out of options.

— — —

"Harry? Harry, are you listening to me?" Kurt asked, waving his hand in front of his boyfriend's face. They were watching TV at Harry's place (because Burt scared the living hell out of the British teen), and Kurt had been making snarky comments about the clothes in whatever make-over show was on that Harry didn't care about.

"Hnn?" Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Kurt. I just can't stop thinking about this Karofsky situation."

Kurt sighed. "Don't worry so much. I'm _fine_." He patted Harry's hand reassuringly and Harry knew he was lying. Kurt was not "_fine_", he was not "_ok_", he was not "_dealing_", or whatever other BS he tried to sell. He was hurting and he was terrified. He was losing sleep and weight and the will to fight Rachel Berry for solos and it was killing Harry to see the outgoing man he cared for become a withdrawn shadow of himself.

"God, _why_ does he hate you so much?" Harry burst out. "I mean, he never says anything about why, does he? Nothing like, 'it's against God' or anything, just 'gay; ew'. And if he just doesn't like gay people in general, why target just you? I mean, I'm gay and no one's said a _thing_."

"I don't know," Kurt told him plainly, leaning against Harry as the other wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Apparently, I just 'gay up' everything and he doesn't want to catch it."

'_Catch it'? _Harry thought dumbly. _He thinks you can "catch it"?_ It was just about the dumbest thing Harry had ever heard in his life. And he'd heard people call Lockhart a genius. _How the hell can you "catch gay"?_ Harry thought incredulously, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. _The only reason to think gay is contagious is if…_.

Harry's mind froze. It couldn't be. There was no way. _No. Goddamn. Way._ Because the only reason to think you can "catch gay"….

_Oh my God…_. _Oh—my—freaking—God._

Harry smirked. _Perfect._

— — —

"Hello, David."

The football player turned around, already knowing who was behind him. Only one person in school had a British accent, after all.

"What'd'you want, Potter?" Karofsky asked, trying to sneer at the other teen. Having dealt with Severus Snape for five years and Lucius Malfoy for three, Harry thought his attempt was rather pathetic.

"I want you to stop harassing my boyfriend," Harry stated plainly, crossing his arms and settling back against the lockers. Karofsky scoffed. "I mean it," Harry continued. "I'm not above playing dirty."

"What? You think you could take me?" The larger teen took a few steps forward, stopping less than a yard away from Harry, who refused to back away. Harry was glad he'd waited for everyone else to leave, or Karofsky might've tried to hit him in some primitive show of dominance. Harry was also glad that a little sticking charm on the football player's locker to make him take longer to leave than his team-mates didn't technically break the law.

"I think you've misinterpreted '_play_ dirty' for '_fight_ dirty'," Harry told him, staring at the other teen like he was a rodent headed straight for a trap. "Of course, I could kick your ass. I don't like fighting, but I'm surprisingly good at it." Karofsky scoffed again and Harry smiled patronizingly. "My second option would've been to bribe you, but there's no way _that _was happening. I could've just destroyed you financially, left you to rot on the streets, and I _cannot tell _you how tempting that was. You have your father not being a bastard to thank for me not going with that option."

Karofsky stared at Harry, wide-eyed at the thought of being homeless. He wanted to think that the Brit wouldn't do it, that he wouldn't have that type of influence, but something told him the other didn't bluff. Ever.

"Which left me with my final option," Harry continued his carefully worded speech. He needed Karofsky to understand that Harry was drawing the line, and he'd do best not to cross it. "Blackmail."

Karofsky attempted to hide it, but Harry could tell he was nervous about what exactly the other had on him. Harry tried very hard not to enjoy the effect his words had on the bully.

"Imagine my surprise when I found out you think you can 'catch gay'." The seeming change in subject threw the football player, who was very much regretting not leaving the moment he saw Harry Potter in the locker room. "I mean, why the hell would gay be contagious? You'd have to be a total idiot to believe that. But then I started to think about it." Karofsky felt a bead of sweat begin to make its way down the back of his neck. Potter couldn't know. He couldn't. "And I decided that it was completely logical to think you can catch gay… if you think you've caught it."

"I'm not—" Karofsky began to shout before Harry cut him off.

"Yes you are," he stated bluntly. "You are and you want to hide it. Fine. Nestle down in that closet you hide in—build a goddamn house in there for all I care." Harry pushed off from the lockers he'd been leaning against and bridged the short distance between him and his boyfriend's bully. The jock was slightly taller than him, but that didn't stop Karofsky from cringing away. "But stop tormenting Kurt or your precious lie will fall down around you. Do you understand?"

Karofsky nodded weakly and Harry turned to leave before suddenly stopping. "One more thing." He brought up both hands and shoved the football player hard against the lockers. "Just so you know what it feels like," Harry told him simply before turning again to leave.

Finally, Harry was gone, and Karofsky sunk to the floor, wondering what the hell had just happened.

— — —

The next day, Kurt marched down the hallway in one of his many flamboyant outfits, Harry's hand clutched tightly in his, desperately hoping he wouldn't have to go home with more bruises than he'd left with. Harry had told him the night before that he had taken care of the Karofsky situation and then asked—rather reluctantly—if the countertenor wanted any details. Kurt had read the look on Harry's face and decided that no, he did not want to know.

Harry watched cautiously from his boyfriend's side as Karofsky walked toward them, Kurt's grip tightening around the wizard's hand. This would be it. This would determine whether or not the bully had taken Harry's threat seriously. Kurt held his breath…

…as Karofsky walked right past him. He exhaled quietly and turned to smile at Harry. Without knowing what Harry had done, he couldn't be sure this was the end, but he'd finally caught a break. He kissed Harry in the cheek in a rare display of public affection as they continued on to class.

Eventually, he would ask what Harry had done to Karofsky to get him to lay off, and maybe he would get mad at the answer, but for now, he would just reap the benefits with his sweet, protective boyfriend.

—

**A/N: **I don't like the ending. At all. But I was so close to done and I was at the library with internet and I wanted to get it posted. So yeah.

I'm sorry if you're disappointed by the lack of ass kicking, but by the time the opening came to me, I knew there would be no Harry-violence. Besides, I'm a woman; I'm a much better mental terrorist.

OhSusieQ, sorry I didn't have any Harry-Burt or Remus-Kurt time. I had no idea how to fit it in. I hope you're satisfied with Harry-Remus time.

Anyway, reactions to this will determine if I write anymore of the plotlines mentioned before, so please review so I'll know if it's worth it to continue.

**Fic suggestions! **_My Way Home is Through You._ It's fabulous. It's Older!Harry/student!Kurt and it's updated every Tuesday. Go read it. Go.


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